


Happy Birthday, Veronica

by badboy_fangirl



Series: Incidents in the Life of Lincoln Burrows [5]
Category: Prison Break
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-17 01:47:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10583868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badboy_fangirl/pseuds/badboy_fangirl
Summary: Lincoln and Veronica finally make a go of it.





	

"You can't tell Michael about the money, you know," Lincoln murmured, his fingers stroking up and down Veronica's back. She lay sprawled on his chest, but he knew she wasn't asleep.   
  
"I know," she replied, her lips moving against his skin. "Where'd you get it?"   
  
"This guy I met in the joint, he knew a guy, a loan shark. I'm gonna pay it back."   
  
Veronica's head came up, her tousled hair spilling over his hands as he ran his fingers over her shoulder blades. She stacked her hands on his chest and then rested her chin on them. "How will you pay it back?"   
  
"A bit at a time," he said, pressing his fingers into the groove of her spine, then walking them down to the curves of her buttocks. "Have I ever told you that I love your ass?" he asked, cupping said ass warmly in his big hands.   
  
Her lips curved into a sleepy smile. "When would you have told me that? Every time I tried to get close to you, you ran away from me." She moved her hands to press lazy kisses against his chest. "I love your body, though," she murmured, her tongue snaking out. "I've wanted to see you naked...forever. I mean, your chest is magnificent, but I always had to imagine everything else."    
  
He choked on a groan when she spread her legs and shifted downward. "How do I compare with your imagination?" he asked. Her hair trailed down his stomach and he felt himself come to rigid attention as her fingers closed around him.   
  
"Bigger," she said, her eyes locking on his. She did the same trick with her tongue against the head of his cock that she had on the beer bottle several hours earlier. "Harder," she whispered as he gasped in delighted sensation.   
  
"How do you know how to do  _ that _ , Miss Virgin?" he grated out, his fingers plowing into her hair.   
  
"My imagination wasn't just for looking, Lincoln. I imagined what I'd do to you if I ever got you naked." She purred in her throat as she ran her tongue down the length of him. "Didn't you imagine it?" she asked, pausing to pay attention to his answer.   
  
"I tried not to," he said, his fingers clenching against her skull. He wanted to pull her face downward, and even though they had been making love for several hours now, he still found himself resisting his urges. He really was crippled by all the years of repression. He sighed heavily and whimpered, "Baby, please."   
  
"Please, what?" she asked, her eyebrows drawing upwards.    
  
"You know what," he said irritably, his tensed fingers were still in her hair, but his hands were trembling with barely contained excitement.   
  
"Say it," she said, rubbing her lips back and forth, feather-light.   
  
His eyes closed involuntarily and his hips jerked, moving against her. He slid his fingers more deeply into her hair, cradling her head completely in his hands. "Take me," he said, strangling on a small breath. He dragged her head forward, not roughly, but with enough strength that if her mouth hadn't already been open, it would have been an awkward situation. As it was, because her mouth was open, his teeth clamped down on his lower lip and he couldn't have said another word if his life depended on it.   
  


  
  


  
  
When morning came, Veronica could barely walk, but she didn't mind in the slightest. Lincoln was sweeter than she could ever remember, helping her into the shower, washing her gently, refusing to make love to her again when she started kissing him because "We don't have to make up for the last two years in 12 hours. Besides, you're not the only one who's sore. I haven't been doing this much lately, myself."   
  
She hid her face against his chest as the hot water beat down on them because she felt sudden tears in her eyes at that confession. She had secretly hoped, but how could she know what type of relationship Lincoln shared with Lisa? His unintentional remark made her warm inside, so she slid her arms around his waist and whispered, "I love you so much."   
  
He hugged her back and said, only for the second time, against her ear, "I love you, too."   
  
Eventually they got dressed, and made their way out to his truck, walking slowly, holding hands. "How did you get here?" he asked suddenly as he unlocked the passenger side door.    
  
"Michael dropped me off on his way back to his dorm. Have you seen that beater car he's got? It's so loud, you have to shout over the motor to talk. And the passenger side door, when you open it, it makes this horrible creaking sound, like fingernails on a chalkboard. It's hilarious."   
  
"Well, that's what you get when you pay three hundred bucks for something."   
  
"I know, it's just funny, because it's Michael, you know. It doesn't fit him." She saw something painful flicker across Lincoln's face as he helped her jump in the truck. "What's the matter?" she asked.   
  
He shook his head. "Nothing."    
  
He tried to step backwards so he could shut the car door, but she quickly stuck her legs out, snagging his legs while her hands grabbed at his shirt. "It's okay for Michael to have a beater car," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck as her legs performed the same hug around his thighs.   
  
"I know," he said. "I just..." he raised his eyes towards the bright sunlight and grimaced. "Michael and I...we're not the same, you know? He's decided on engineering, for a major, did you know that?" She nodded, and he looked back at her. "Sometimes I think...that I'll...lose him."   
  
Veronica watched his tense face, her heart breaking for him. Remembering Michael's words of judgment about Lincoln selling drugs even though he had 'all that money from the inheritance,' she pulled Lincoln's lips to hers for a brief kiss. "You can never lose your brother, Lincoln. He loves you. And he might have a different life than you, but he'll always be your brother. Nothing can change that." Veronica had promised Lincoln she'd keep the secret about the money, but if his worst fears ever came true for any reason, she knew she wouldn't hesitate to tell Michael exactly what he owed his brother.   
  
"He might love me, but sometimes, especially lately, I get the feeling he doesn't really like me. " His hands had curled around her shoulders and he rubbed her with vigorous hands. "I just don't..."   
  
"He told me just the other day how good it is that you guys don't live together anymore, but," she said quickly when the expression on his face collapsed even further, "he said the reason it's good is because he needs the space. He's growing up, that's all. He said when he sees you, you guys laugh and have a good time. He said it's like when your mom was still alive."   
  
"He said that?" he asked, disbelief in his voice.   
  
"Yes, he said that. He loves you, and he knows you've done a lot for him to get him where he is. He appreciates it, Lincoln, really he does." She pulled his hands from her shoulders and wrapped hers around them, kissing them softly. "You need to start letting the people in your life love you, and stop doubting that you deserve that love."   
  
He was silent, just watching her face.   
  
"If that means you need to stop doing certain things so you can feel that way, then maybe you ought to think about that."   
  
He gave a sharp nod and then pulled himself away from her arms and legs. "We better go get your stuff, if you're going to get back to Champaign anytime today."   
  
Veronica turned so her legs were in the truck and waited for him to shut the door. Reaching over, she unlocked his door, and realized that any relationship she had with Lincoln was going to involve a lot of patience on her part. But of course, patience was what had gotten her this far. She smiled at him as he got in the truck. "My dad wanted to talk to you anyway, so this is great that we're going over there."   
  
Lincoln didn't look so sure, and the pained smile he gave her almost made her laugh.   
  


  
  
  
George Donovan was sitting in the porch swing, on his newly refurbished porch, swaying slightly as Lincoln parked the car by the mailbox. Veronica's father lifted a hand in welcome and Veronica enthusiastically waved back, smiling foolishly. Lincoln could feel the corners of his mouth kicking up at her happiness, but he knew he better not look like he'd spent the last 12 hours totally debauching the guy's daughter. Of course, that's what had happened. There wasn't one place on Veronica's body that he didn't have intimate knowledge of, nor was there a place on his body that her lips hadn't been. He could feel his breath quickening and his blood heating all over again and he wondered if he was insatiable when it came to Veronica. It was still new so maybe there was a chance it would burn out, or at least dim a little. If he was honest with himself, he hoped that it would, because he didn't think he could take much more. He felt out of his mind, drunk with the feelings she evoked in him, and it was totally different than any other kind of out-of-control he'd ever been.   
  
Veronica fed the addiction more than anyone ever could have, so deep inside his mind and so loving in every move she made that he knew he was in big, big trouble. Trying to have a cool, calm exterior for her old man when all he wanted to do was run and hide somewhere caused him to squirm in his seat just thinking about it.   
  
Veronica's hand touched his elbow. "It's gonna be fine. Come on."   
  
They climbed out of the truck, and Veronica waited at the curb for Lincoln to circle around to her. She laced her fingers through his and he looked down at her with apprehension, trying to tug his hand away. "I'm still married, Vee, we shouldn't be making this type of announcement."   
  
"I told him what I was going over to your house to do, so you better be willing to show you're in this for a relationship and not a wham bam, thank you ma'am," she whispered loudly.   
  
Lincoln felt his eyes widen in horror. "You told him what you were—"   
  
"Not in so many words, Lincoln, but he's not stupid."   
  
"Oh, shit," he breathed, running his free hand through his hair. "He's gonna beat the hell out of me."   
  
"No, he's not," she said, yarding on his arm.   
  
"Well, he did just have open heart surgery, that's true." He stood like a tree, unmoving as she pulled at him.   
  
"Lincoln, he wouldn't beat you up, even if he weren't healing. He knows I love you, he knows I want this. He knows that you love me."   
  
His eyes jerked to her face. "How does he know that?"   
  
"Because I told him. Come on, he wants to thank you, for saving his life."   
  
When he felt the blood rush to his face, he'd never wanted to run the other direction more in his life. It was a much more comfortable situation for Lincoln if Veronica's father didn't like him. It was one more challenge that he wouldn't be expected to conquer. Lisa's dad had never liked him and had said maybe seven words to him during the almost two years that they had been married. And he knew George Donovan had never liked him, even when he was nice enough to let him and Michael stay for dinner and watch movies in the living room with Veronica all during their growing up years. "Don't be embarrassed," Veronica said. She stopped trying to move him forward and turned so that she blocked his view of the porch. "Lincoln, it's all right. You're a person; he's a person. You can be people together. You can be the men in my life together." She lifted her hands and placed her palms against his cheeks. "Please," she said plaintively.   
  
"You kids get up here," George called from the swing. "Maddie fixed some lemonade and cookies, and they're the healthy kind, so I need someone to help me eat them!"   
  
Lincoln looked over her head at George, who was waving them up with an arm. "Who's Maddie?" he asked.   
  
"She's the in-home caregiver. She's this nice, nice lady, and I think Daddy has a crush on her." Veronica giggled a little, looking over her shoulder. She turned back to Lincoln. "Come on, you've been encouraged as much as possible. Let's do this."   
  


  
  


  
  
  
The drive back to University of Illinois took longer than the drive up had since Lincoln didn't feel the need to speed. They were both so much more relaxed due their night together and because they had just spent an hour with Veronica's father going on and on about how grateful he was to Lincoln, and apologizing for having judged him harshly in the past. Once he got past the initial discomfort of pleasurable embarrassment, Veronica had found Lincoln all the more adorable for his obvious desire to be liked by her father. As she watched them talking about the Cubs versus the Sox, she realized how much Lincoln would benefit from having a positive male role model in his life. It was strange how she had always deflected to Michael, but it was really because that's where Lincoln's focus had always been. He never thought about himself, not when it came to important emotional ties, or problems that surfaced because he'd grown up without a father, but suddenly the scars were quite obvious to her.   
  
She had realized that his father's absence in his life had affected just about every aspect of it, including his own perception of himself. The reasons for his continual belief that he wasn't good enough for her had been a revelation, coming to her as she was yelling at him the day before. She had suddenly known that he kept her away to protect her from something he would never do anyway: abandon her.   
  
She knew she was somewhat naïve, and a romantic at heart; she also knew that Lincoln lived in the real world of tough choices and tough circumstances and that he was neither naïve, nor all that romantic. He certainly didn't have fantasies that involved them in a big church getting married in front of God and everyone. She knew he didn't see their relationship going much past next week, simply because he'd never even let himself believe they'd ever be together. Coaxing him into submission was a task she relished.   
  
She was realistic that the relationship could end. She was a child of divorce, so it wasn't like she didn't know the hazards that awaited them; she took comfort in the fact that they had loved each other all their lives, that their love had grown and changed over the years, becoming richer, different, hopefully stronger, and that was what she viewed as the litmus test. If they had gotten through all they had to get to this point, then they could get through whatever lay ahead of them.   
  
And maybe she could even help Lincoln heal some of the scars from his past. Maybe she could help him believe the way she did, that this, that them together, was more than just an idle passing of time, or an itch that had to be scratched. That thought caused her to turn her head and look at him across the bench seat. He was so beautiful, and she loved him so much, and she wondered if it were possible to overdose on sex. She felt like she couldn't get enough of his skin, of his smell, of the hot invasion of his body inside hers. She reached over and ran her fingers through his hair, brushing his earlobe softly. He clasped her hand in his and threw her a little smile. Pressing her hand to his lips, she felt his tongue glide across her skin, and she felt inflamed all over again. Unfastening her seatbelt, she scooted over closer to him. "I want you," she rasped, putting her mouth against his ear and snaking her tongue around the soft, fuzzy lobe.   
  
He cursed under his breath. "Not safe, not safe, Vee," he muttered, pulling his ear from her teeth. The scraping of his tender skin caused a shudder to course through his body. "We're almost there. Twenty minutes, tops." He cast a desperate glance at her, but she stayed next to him. She laid her head on his shoulder and ran her fingers up his leg towards his knee. "Veronica," he said, his tone authoritative.   
  
"I'm not doing anything," she protested, but his hand reached down and removed hers from his leg.   
  
"Don't touch me. I mean it. I'm like a stick of dynamite where you're concerned. It doesn't take much."   
  
She laughed throatily and scooted back to her side of the car. "That's beautiful," she said. "Tell me more."   
  
He made a scoffing sound and focused his gaze on the traffic around them. "I've wanted you for a long time, you know that. After last night—"   
  
"And this morning," she interjected.   
  
"And this morning, well, let's just say that only whetted my appetite."   
  
"Yay," she crowed, clapping her hands together repeatedly.   
  
"Put your seatbelt back on," he commanded, and she obediently did so.   
  
After a moment, she asked, "How many times did we do it?"   
  
"How many times?" He didn't look at her, but his fingers gripped the steering wheel more tightly. "I don't know. It depends how you count, I guess."   
  
"What's that mean?" she asked, her eyebrows drawing together in frown.   
  
"Do you count how many times I was actually inside you, or do you count how many times you came?"   
  
"Oooohhhh," she said, thinking. "In that case, it was 5 to 7. Because you went down on me once and the other time you just used your fingers."   
  
"We need to  _ not _ talk about this," he said, stretching his legs to give himself more room in his jeans.   
  
"Wait, that's not true either, because I didn't come the first time you were inside me. You were a little, uh, dynamite-like. So it's 5 to 6. No, that's not true either because the time I was on top, when you were sitting up, against the wall, I came twice then. So I was right the first time, 5 to 7."   
  
"Veronica," he groaned, his hand reaching over to clamp across her mouth. "Shut the hell up."   
  
Her muffled laughter was drowned out by another round of his cursing when she licked his fingers. He jerked his hand away and glared at her as he took the exit to U of I. "I know your weaknesses, now, Burrows. You'll never be safe from me, ever again."   
  
She said it as a joke, but the expression on his face changed her jovial mood instantly.   
  


  
  


  
  
  
As they walked down the hall to her dormitory, all Lincoln could think about was getting inside. Inside the room, then inside her pants, then inside her. The mantra reverberated between his eardrums until his heart pumped a matching rhythm and he was all but opening his fly as they got to the door. It was just then that he remembered she had a roommate, and he felt the disappointment well up in him. As they walked into her dorm room, Veronica did a quick check and then spun around into his arms. "Right now," she breathed against his lips and he hurriedly shoved his hands inside her jeans, stripping them down her legs.   
  
Her fingers were busy fighting with his zipper, but as she stepped out of her shoes and pants, he asked, "Which bed is yours?"   
  
"This one," she murmured, wrapping one hand around his neck and shoving the other one inside his underwear as they tumbled on to the bed closest to the door.   
  
"Oh, holy—" his words ended on a hiss as her tight fist worked its way down his engorged cock. His hands gripped her thighs and spread her wide, the fingers of his right hand sliding up to check her readiness. She moaned his name repeatedly as he penetrated her with one rough finger and he wondered wildly if he'd even get inside her before they both came. She was hot and sweet and driving him out of his mind before he could even squeeze himself into her. "Hurry," she muttered, once again reading his mind. He got into position and gave one, hard thrust, almost passing out with the profound relief that it was to be so tightly sheathed again.   
  
"We're going to kill ourselves," Veronica gasped, her thighs hugging his jean clad hips clumsily, her fingers digging into his buttocks to hold him as close as possible.   
  
"Yeah, but what a way to go, baby," he breathed, his lips finding hers as they began moving rapidly but fluidly.   
  
Within a couple minutes, they were both panting and sweating and laughing at the absurdity of it all. Veronica relaxed under him, her legs falling open out of exhaustion. "That's definitely the way I want to die," she breathed, shoving a hand into her hair, pushing it off her face. "You have to get off me, I'm about to suffocate down here."   
  
He grunted and rolled off her, though there wasn't much room for that. "Why is the bed so damn small?" he asked as she got up and took her jacket off. He watched her sweet little bottom as she bent to open a bureau drawer, pulling out clean underwear and pajama bottoms.   
  
"Look at the room, Lincoln. It's all small." She squealed in surprise when he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her into him, giving her a big loud kiss right on her left butt cheek. He laid his face against her soft skin for a moment, just holding her. He felt her fingers caressing his arm and then she threaded their fingers together. "I love you," she said, again. She'd said it so many times since she'd showed up at his house the night before he had lost count. He knew in comparison he'd said it far less times, but it wasn't easy to let go of all the restrictions he'd put on himself.   
  
He moved back from her, patting her bottom gently. She turned around, tucking the panties and pajamas pants against her chest as she looked down at him. She smiled softly and then turned to walk into the bathroom to clean up and put her clothes on. "You should zip your pants back up, Jasmine could show up at any time," she called over her shoulder.   
  
"I need to go," he said, standing up and following her into the bathroom. "I need to go home and get some sleep if I'm going to start on the back porch at your dad's tomorrow."   
  
She ran a washcloth under the faucet. "That's true," she agreed, turning to wipe gently at his exposed genitalia. When she had finished, he took the washcloth from her and performed the same service for her, using the other side of the fabric. She watched his face closely and he found himself lost in her eyes, not watching what he was doing at all. Their lips met somewhere in the middle of that and before either had thought it through he had her pressed up against the bathroom wall. She tasted sweet, her tongue responding playfully to every movement of his and she locked her arms around his neck, holding him tightly.   
  
"Vee," he gasped, breaking away. "Damn, I want you, I want you, I want you. I can't get enough. I'm going out of my fuckin' mind." His mouth slid hotly down her throat and his hands slid up inside her shirt to the breasts that had been neglected this time around.   
  
"Sorry to interrupt, Veronica...but I'm home!" Lincoln stiffened at this announcement and Veronica giggled into his chest.   
  
"Hi, Jasmine," she called, helping Lincoln zip his pants up. She quickly donned her underwear and pants, but reached up and kissed his lips once more. "Come meet my roomie," she said, dragging him back into the bedroom.   
  
"This must be Chet," Jasmine said, extending her hand. "It's nice to really meet you, not just pass you in the hallway."   
  
Lincoln reached for her hand and looked at Veronica who said, "Actually, this is Lincoln Burrows. He's, um, from where I grew up. We sort of, uh, hooked up while I was up at my dad's."   
  
Jasmine shook his hand firmly and quickly let go, but her gaze traveled from the top of his head to the scuffed boots on his feet. She was a pretty blonde girl, at least half a foot taller than Veronica, slim and exotic looking. She sort of reminded him of Lisa, and it was just like a punch in the gut. He'd been completely immersed in Veronica, not thinking of LJ and Lisa at all, but reality came crashing back with a resounding smack. "Not bad," was Jasmine's summation and she turned a big grin on Veronica. "Poor Chet, huh?"   
  
"Poor Chet, indeed," Veronica said. "But Linc has to go, we were just saying goodbye."   
  
"Uh-huh, looked like goodbye to me," Jasmine said, turning around and walking over to where her computer sat. She turned it on and then looked back at them. "It sure was nice to meet you, Lincoln."   
  
"Uh, yeah, you too," he said, forcing a smile. He glanced at Veronica who was watching him carefully. "I really do have to go," he said, gesturing towards the door.   
  
"I know," Veronica said and she walked over to her closet to get some slip-on shoes. "I'll walk down with you," she said, reaching for his hand.   
  
Once they were out by the truck, he said, "I have to go to talk to Lisa tomorrow, and see if she's going to file for divorce or what. Then we have to work out the custody thing, so if you don't hear from me for awhile..."   
  
"It's all right, Lincoln. I'm going to be buried in make-up work, so I won't have time either. I'm coming home for my birthday, so I'll see you then, okay?"   
  
Her birthday. It was a little over three weeks until then. He nodded, leaning in to kiss her softly. "Okay."   
  
"I love you," she said, her lips moving from his lips to his ear, blowing a soft breath over his skin.   
  
He suddenly clamped his arms around her shoulders, hugging her tightly to him. "I love you, too, baby," he said. His eyes stung with inexplicable tears, so he closed them tightly shut.   
  
Her hands came to rest on the small of his back, up under his shirt, directly on his skin, and it surprised him how wonderful that small contact felt. "Everything will work out," she whispered in his ear. "Have a little faith," she murmured.   
  


  
  


  
  
  
After work the next day, Lincoln knocked on the front door of Lisa's mother's apartment. He stood patiently, reflecting briefly on how different it was to be the recipient of praise from the father of a girl he had intimate knowledge of. It had never happened, ever before, and he found himself completely nonplussed by the whole situation. A silly smile slid across his face at various times of the day, like when George Donovan asked him if he wanted to eat lunch with him instead of going off with the other guys at lunchtime.    
  
The door opened, and Lisa stood there with LJ on her hip. The baby smiled, reaching out to his father instantly and nothing could have made Lincoln feel more loved. He took his son in his arms and fought back tears that gathered in his throat. "Hey, buddy," he murmured, his big hands covering LJ's small back and diaper-covered bottom. His small arms tightened around Lincoln's neck briefly before his hands drew back to pat his father's face.    
  
"Come on in," Lisa said, stepping back. This was a pre-arranged meeting, so Lincoln hoped it would be devoid of shouting and anger. He hoped, but he didn't really think they could have a conversation without those two things.    
  
"Thanks," he said, stepping inside the small apartment. He suddenly wondered what Lisa had done with all the things she took from their apartment since her mother's place would obviously not hold all the stuff. He almost asked about it, but he figured it would just start a fight, and he honestly didn't care about the furniture or the things he had worked to buy for LJ. Lisa could have all of it, as long as she would be reasonable about his visitation rights with his son.    
  
He settled on the sofa, and LJ stayed on his lap for about 30 seconds before sliding down to scamper across the floor and resume play in a pile of toys. He looked at Lisa, who picked up the remote and turned the television off before sitting on a chair on the other side of the coffee table. "LJ looks happy here," Lincoln commented, watching the baby as he stacked plastic donuts on top of each other.    
  
"Yeah, well, everyone in this house likes everyone else. That probably helps." Her tone was loaded and Lincoln's eyes bounced off hers before heading back to the baby.  _ Don't take the bait _ , he thought.    
  
"So..."    
  
"I'm planning on filing the papers on Friday," she said, cutting to the chase.    
  
"All right," he said lowly.    
  
"Irreconcilable differences."    
  
He snorted. "Yeah."    
  
"I'd say adultery, but I can't prove it, so..."    
  
He gaze moved to her face and he was shocked to see tears fill her eyes. "Lisa, look..."    
  
"I don't want to hear it, Linc." She stood up and paced away towards the window. It was ironic that she was using the same body language he'd used in his confrontation with Veronica. But this wasn't going to end well for her; he knew that with every fiber in his being.    
  
"It's not like we were in love, Lisa," he said.    
  
"No, Lincoln," she turned around, not even trying to hide her tears now. "It's not like  _ you _ were in love." She swiped at her cheek with an angry hand. "At least not in love with  _ me _ ."    
  
"What, so now you're saying you love me? We've been married for two years, and never once did we even–"    
  
"Why would I tell you? Why would I let you know I was dumb enough to fall in love with you? I knew that would only make you leave sooner."    
  
"I didn't leave, you did!" he shouted, causing LJ to jump. He moved over on the sofa and leaned down to the baby. "Sorry, buddy, Daddy's not mad at you."    
  
"Lincoln," she said, bringing his attention back to her. "You left ages ago. I could tell you really tried, in the beginning. But then something happened, right before you got thrown in jail. You've pretty much been phoning it in since then." She walked back to the chair and sat down heavily. "I knew, when I found you with her that night, the night I told you about LJ, I mean, I knew how disappointed you were. But I thought you'd get over it, and I guess you tried, and the more you tried, the more I started to care..." She shook her head, trailing off.    
  
Lincoln sat in stupefied silence. He never had any idea, he'd never even guessed that Lisa wanted anything more from him than loyalty, which was all he was capable, at his best, of ever giving her. He leaned forward, his hands clasped between his spread knees. He finally said, very quietly, "I'm sorry. I know that's nothing now, but I am sorry." He knew with blinding clarity that if they'd had this conversation when he'd gotten out of Stateside six months before, he would already be divorced. "I thought I could do it."    
  
"What exactly did you think you could do? Be married to someone you didn't love?"    
  
"You knew I didn't love you when we got married! I remember a very specific conversation. 'I don't want to have an abortion, Linc, I think it's wrong.' I said I'd support you, whatever decision you made, and I've been thankful every day of LJ's life, but you know we got married to give him the best chance we could, not for any other reason. We did it for money and for, whatever, propriety. Because that's what you do when you make a mistake, you own up to it. I did what I thought was right, and I thought you did it for the same reason."    
  
"I did," she said, nodding miserably. "I know I did. But if you would just have given me a chance, maybe we could have had something."    
  
It was Lincoln's turn to get to his feet and pace away from her. He stepped over the baby and his toys. "I couldn't give you the chance you're talking about, Lees, even if I'd known you wanted it." He kept his back to her, thinking that would make it easier to tell the truth, but he couldn't say what else teetered on his tongue.    
  
"You love her. You've always loved her." Lisa's voice reflected the shattered state of her heart, and Lincoln's stomach twisted with guilt, and need, and desire as visions of Veronica swam in front of his eyes. He saw flashes of his entire life, Veronica laughing as he pushed her on a swing in the park by her house; Michael running, chasing them while they played tag; the dusky light of the sunrise flowing into the living room window and bouncing off Veronica's mass of black hair after she'd fallen asleep watching movies – that image got particularly dense as he remembered waking up and nudging Michael to get up. He'd gone over to the sofa where she lay, and looking down at her, brushed her hair back with tentative fingers. A new feeling had invaded every place in his body, telling him that he wanted her, wanted her the way men wanted women, not a speck of the brotherly affection he had felt for her until that moment inside his heart anywhere.    
  
He forced himself to face his wife. He remembered Veronica's hands, and lips, and her sighs of fulfillment as they drifted across his skin. He remembered the emptiness of two years of living with Lisa, of sleeping next to her but always rolling away from her so their skin didn't touch, the laughter and light of those days only fueled by LJ and his bright smiles and sunny eyes. He looked at her, at her pretty blondness, at her tear-streaked face, and saw the ruins of a marriage that had never held any promise except that of bleak half-truths and false expressions of  _ This is my wife, Lisa _ when wife should have been a label of pride, both for her to wear and for him to offer to people.  _ This is my wife...this is the woman I share my life with... this is the woman that I love _ .    
  
It was with great trepidation that he realized Veronica was more his wife in two days' time than Lisa could ever have been. He thought of the intimacy of their bodies, but that only led him to concentrate on the things that really mattered: her knowledge of his heart, her comforting words in the face of his fears, his total and complete confidence in her love for him even though he knew she could do so much better than him. He felt tears sting his eyes. They had been returning to him at odd moments over the last several days; more tears had attempted to squeeze their way down his face since George Donovan's heart attack than all the tears combined that he'd cried since his mother died. He blinked in an effort to hold them back, and said gruffly, "You're right. I love her. I didn't really know, not at first. Now I'm just sorry, sorry for all of it." He walked over and got down on one knee on the floor next to Lisa's chair. He touched her arm lightly, his gaze steady on her face. "Forgive me."    
  
She watched him, shock in her expression. She looked as if she didn't really expect or want his confession, but now she had it and he waited silently to see what she would do with it. She placed her hand over his on her arm. "If you're asking me not to punish LJ for this, don't worry. I would never keep you from seeing him."    
  
"I don't want you to tell him all this crap when he's old enough to understand. I don't want him to look at Vee and think she broke up his family. She didn't, Lisa. I did this."    
  
"I guess I'll take that as a clue that she's going to be in your life from now on."    
  
"She's always been in my life." He paused, knowing there was no reason to go into detail. "I don't know exactly how she'll be in my life, but she always will be. She's part of me."    
  
Lisa nodded. She patted his hand firmly and then withdrew entirely from his touch. "I'll let LJ make up his own mind about Veronica."    
  
Lincoln released a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "Thank you."    
  


  
  


  
  
  
His next stop was Michael's dormitory. He hadn't been there since he'd helped his brother move in, and when he tapped on the door, which was slightly ajar, he knew he was interrupting some serious studying. Michael was holding an enormous textbook in his lap, sitting at the small desk in the corner, but facing the bed. A very pretty girl with auburn hair was throwing something through the air towards Michael's mouth and he was laughing while attempting to catch whatever it was. The girl sat, Indian style, on the bed, laughing as well.    
  
When Lincoln knocked and Michael looked away from the girl, an M&M bounced off his forehead. "Hey, Lincoln!" he said, obviously surprised, but happy to see him.    
  
"Hey, Michael," he responded, his gaze going to the girl who had whipped around to see him. "Hello," he said, nodding to her.    
  
"Linc, this is Anna. Anna, this is my infamous brother."    
  
"Hi," Anna said, smiling.    
  
"Infamous? Hardly," Lincoln said.    
  
"Infamous? Of course, Anna just said I talk about him how much?"    
  
"Every time we do anything we haven't done before, Michael starts the event with, 'This one time, me and Linc...'" Anna laughed. "For instance. You used to throw Milk Duds like this, right?" she asked, indicating the game she and Michael were playing.    
  
Lincoln was startled into laughter by the reminder. "Oh, yeah. I totally forgot about that. Milk Duds hurt, man. M&Ms are for puss--wimps. Wimps. They're for wimps."    
  
Michael and Anna dissolved into more laughter and Michael picked up one of the spare candies and chucked it at Lincoln. Of course, being ten feet away caused the M&M to hit the floor just before it got to Lincoln. "What's up?" Michael asked. "You never come here."    
  
"Yeah, well," Lincoln glanced nervously at Anna. "Um, not to be rude, but..."    
  
Anna looked at Michael, shrugging. "No big deal, I can clear out. I just live upstairs."    
  
"This is a co-ed dorm?" Lincoln asked incredulously.    
  
Anna stood up, gathering her schoolbooks and her bag of M&Ms. "Uh, yeah. The whole reason to go to Loyola," she said, smiling widely. She leaned over Michael, giving him a sweet kiss right on the lips.    
  
"Yeah, go Wolves," Lincoln said.    
  
Anna walked around the bed towards Lincoln and the door. "The buildings are co-ed, the floors are gender specific. But lucky for me, my boyfriend just lives one floor down."    
  
"Boyfriend?" Lincoln asked, his eyes dancing at the endless teasing that awaited Michael.    
  
"You be nice," Anna said, poking him in the chest with a vigorous finger.    
  
"Man, you really do talk about me, don't you?" he asked, looking back at Michael who, by his expression, was definitely enjoying Anna's assertiveness.    
  
"She knows exactly how I've been abused. She will not allow you to go on tormenting me."    
  
"Well, she's not going to be around, not  _ all _ the time," Lincoln said, wagging a finger at Michael.    
  
Anna's fist wrapped around his finger, yanking hard. "Paybacks are deadly," she said, raising herself up on her tiptoes. She still barely reached Lincoln's shoulder.    
  
He laughed. "You're like a Chihuahua."    
  
"Little but feisty."    
  
"Little, period."    
  
"We'll see," she said, twisting his finger back.    
  
"Ow! Hey!" He pulled his hand away from her.    
  
"See you tomorrow, Michael," she called, easing around Lincoln to go down the hall.    
  
He watched her walk away, appreciation in his gaze. "She's cute," he said, turning back to Michael.    
  
"Come on in," Michael said, directing Lincoln to the bed.    
  
"This room looks exactly like Vee's dorm, only reversed," Lincoln commented, looking around as he sat down on the twin bed.    
  
"Spending time there?" Michael asked, setting his book back on the desk.    
  
"A little." Lincoln looked up, catching Michael's gaze. "Lisa and I getting divorced."    
  
"Congratulations," Michael said.    
  
"Shut up."    
  
"I'm serious. It's about damn time."    
  
"Michael--"    
  
"No, Linc. This is a good thing, and I won't let you tell me it's not. Does Veronica know? Did you tell her when I dropped her off at your place yesterday?"    
  
"Well, even if I hadn't, she would have been able to tell, since Lisa took everything. There's nothing but the bed and my clothes left at the house."    
  
"Are you okay?" Michael asked seriously.    
  
"Yeah, I mean, you're right, it's the right thing. I," he shook his head. "I just seem to be apologizing to everyone, Veronica, Lisa, LJ if he could understand." He scrubbed the back of his head with his hand. "I wanted to apologize to you, too."    
  
"What for?" Michael asked.    
  
"I don't know, everything. The last two years. Everything."    
  
"You didn't do anything to me."    
  
"You went through it all with me, though."    
  
"All I care about, really, Linc, is Veronica. Are you two together now, or what?"    
  
Lincoln hesitated, knowing what the answer was, but feeling like it shouldn't be his answer.    
  
"If you aren't going to be with her, so help me God, I'm gonna--"    
  
"No, don't threaten me. Anna's a Chihuahua, but you're like a, uh, a Pomeranian."    
  
"A Pomeranian? Shut up!" Michael couldn't help it, he threw the handful of candy he still had at his brother. "I'm serious!"    
  
Lincoln's hands came up to deflect the flying treats. "You seem really serious, tossing M&Ms at me."    
  
"Are you with Veronica, or what?"    
  
"I am. We're together, as much as a guy going through a divorce and a girl at college three hours away can be together. I guess."    
  
"You guess."    
  
"What do you want me to say?" he asked.    
  
"I want you to tell me the truth." Michael's eyes glinted, and Lincoln got the uncomfortable feeling that he was talking about something other than what they were openly discussing.    
  
"I am. I swear. Look, Mike, you know I have a thing for Vee, it goes way back--"    
  
"You love her," Michael said. "Just admit it."    
  
"I have," Lincoln responded, somewhat indignantly.    
  
"You've told her?"    
  
"Yes!"    
  
"All right."    
  
"That's all you wanted me to say?" Lincoln asked warily.    
  
"For now," Michael said. "For now, that's good enough."   
  


  
  


  
  
  
Veronica hugged Michael goodnight, waving goodbye to a few of her girlfriends from high school over his shoulder. They were leaving the party her dad had spontaneously thrown for her. This is what she got for having a father who, while recovering, had too much time on his hands. In her ear, Michael whispered, "Good luck, tonight."   
  
"What?" she whispered back, standing on the front porch in an embrace that should have ended but they were perpetuating to exchange quiet remarks.   
  
"You know, with Lincoln." Michael referred to his brother, who was still inside the house with her father and LJ.   
  
"Am I going to need it?" she asked nervously, pulling back to look into Michael's eyes.   
  
"Well, to get lucky, I mean..."   
  
"Oh," she sighed in relief. "That. That's already happened."   
  
"Oh, really," Michael drawled.   
  
She punched him in the arm. "You scared me. I mean, he hasn't been overly affectionate tonight, so I thought maybe he was gearing up to dump me."   
  
"On your birthday?" Michael said, as though even Lincoln couldn't be so cruel.   
  
"It's happened before," she said dryly.   
  
"No kidding?"   
  
"Two years ago, on my birthday, he told me he was marrying Lisa."   
  
Michael looked chagrined. "Oooh, sorry. Well, I don't think he's got anything like that up his sleeve tonight." His eyes moved toward the window where he could see Lincoln and George talking. "He sure gets on with your dad, doesn't he?"   
  
Veronica smiled, glancing over her shoulder towards the same view as Michael. "It's great, isn't it?"   
  
"It's a miracle."   
  
"Get out of here," she said, giving him a playful push. "I'm going to go have fun with your brother, and get lucky, and have a happy birthday."   
  
"Good. Happy Birthday, Veronica."   
  
"Thanks, Michael."   
  
She caught the tail end of her father telling Lincoln about some play from a World Series, from a million years ago when the Cubs had been in it. She put her arms around his waist and said, "Daddy, can you let it go? Lincoln will never come over to your side. He's a Sox fan."   
  
George looked down into his daughter's face and stuck his tongue out at her. "I can try to convert him," he said resolutely.   
  
"Let him keep trying, Vee," Lincoln said, winking at her as LJ made a tricky dive out of Lincoln's arms toward Veronica. "Whoa," Lincoln said, trying to hold on to the baby.   
  
"C'mere, kid," Veronica said, scooping LJ into her arms. She spun around, throwing the baby up in the air. He giggled happily, shrieking in excitement.   
  
"Careful," Lincoln warned. "Birthday cake won't be as sweet coming up as it was going down."   
  
Veronica laughed, gathering LJ into her body by positioning his legs around her waist. "We don't want that to happen, do we? No, we don't," she cooed.   
  
"Do you kids have plans?" George asked.   
  
Veronica looked up to find Lincoln watching her, a hot promise in his blue eyes. "I don't know," she said, cocking her head as LJ grabbed a handful of hair and yanked. "Do we?"   
  
"Yeah, we do, but we need to take this little guy here and put him to bed." He stuck his hand out to shake George's hand. "Thanks for having us over," he said, and Veronica bit her lip to keep from laughing. It was so strange to see Lincoln congenial where he'd never been anything but uncomfortable and, at times, belligerent.   
  
"Any time," George said, grasping Lincoln's hand warmly. "You have fun," he said, turning to Veronica, pressing a kiss to her cheek.   
  
"Goodnight, Daddy," she said, smiling. Her eyes lit on Lincoln's face and she felt her heart start pounding a pagan beat that matched a rhythm they hadn't shared for over three long weeks. She had thought about it every day, however, losing study time, sleep time, all time consumed in thoughts of Lincoln. "Shall we?" she said, pointing towards the door.   
  
"Yes, ma'am," Lincoln said, jumping ahead of her to open the screen door to lead them out to the truck.   
  


  
  


  
  
  
When they walked into Lincoln's apartment, which had some of its furniture back because Lisa had admitted to being overzealous in her removal of things, it was also lit up with candles and rose petals were showered all over the floor while soft music greeted their ears. Lincoln had LJ on his hip, but his gaze was on Veronica's face as it dawned on her that it was all for her.   
  
"What the...?" she asked, looking at him. "This is dangerous, having candles lit when no one's home."   
  
"Michael came over and did this real fast for me, so it would look great when we got here."   
  
She turned back and took in the beauty for a moment, her hand covering her heart. "Oh. Wow. Wow. Thank you," she said. Lincoln was pleased with his idea, though admittedly he wasn't much for romantic gestures. He was pretty sure the only other thing like this he'd ever done was when he'd given her flowers two years ago, and that was not what he wanted recalled today.   
  
He slid his free arm around her and kissed her cheek. "Happy Birthday, Vee." LJ patted Veronica on the nose and she turned her head into Lincoln's shoulder. "No crying," he said sternly.   
  
"I can't help it."   
  
"Let me put LJ to bed," he said, his lips lingering on her ear. "Then I'll put  _ you _ to bed."    
  
A few minutes later, LJ was in his crib in the bedroom, and Lincoln shut the door, leaving them alone in the living room. He reached for her hand and drew her against him, swaying to the soft music she could hear coming from a small boom box. "So you like it?" he asked, tipping her chin up, connecting their eyes.   
  
"It's lovely," she said, her tears having subsided. "Thank you." She stretched upward so that their lips could meet. She took a deep breath, pulling back from him before she lost her sense. "So we have a couple things to talk about," she said, looping her arms around his neck.   
  
"We do?" he asked, suddenly feeling on the defensive.   
  
"Well, yeah, I mean I keep waiting for you to try to break up with me. Every time the phone rings the last three weeks, I keep thinking it's you, and then I'm relieved when it's not, but sorta sad too. I thought you'd call me at least once," she said, a small pout on her lips.   
  
"You told me not to worry about it. You've been busy, I've been busy."   
  
"But Lincoln, if we're a couple..."   
  
"We're a couple, Vee. But you can't expect me to do tons of stuff I never did before. I mean, isn't this nice?" he asked, indicating the candles and everything else.   
  
"So you're telling people we're a couple?" she asked, and he could see tears in her eyes again.   
  
"Well, not really, because I'm getting divorced. But in five months, sure. When it's official...it's official."   
  
"No backing out?" she asked, reaching a hand up to brush quickly at her damp lashes.   
  
"No backing out."   
  
She blew out a breath. "Okay."   
  
"Boy, this is really romantic, huh?" he asked, tugging her closer to him, somewhat disappointed with the fact that they weren't already making love like the shadows dancing on the walls.   
  
Her body relaxed against his and it suddenly became a lot more romantic. "Is that what you were going for?" she asked.   
  
"I'm trying to make this birthday much better than the last two," he said, his hands slipping below her hips to cup her bottom and pull her in tighter against him.   
  
"Well, it's already a thousand times better, so don't worry."   
  
"You say that a lot," he said observationally.   
  
"I'd stop if you'd stop."   
  
"I'm not worried."   
  
"Good."   
  
"Well, except for one thing."   
  
"What's that?"   
  
"We've been very, uh, ah, irresponsible, let's say..." He dropped his gaze to her lips, hoping that was all the explanation she'd need. "You'd think me, a guy who already had a surprise visit from the stork would be a little more anal about that kinda thing..."   
  
"I'm on the pill."   
  
"You are?" he asked.   
  
"Since I was 16. I had some female trouble."   
  
"Are you okay?" he asked, looking at her closely.   
  
"Yes. Lincoln, hello, I've been taking it for 2 ½ years. I'm fine. I just needed to regulate my period. So don't—"   
  
"Worry about it," he finished with her.   
  
"Please, just shut up and kiss me," she said, twining her arms together behind his head.   
  


  
  


  
  
  
Hours later, they lay in a pile of blankets on the living room floor, since LJ had taken up residence in the bedroom, but they were replete and nearly falling to sleep when Lincoln whispered in her ear, "Happy birthday, baby."   
  
Lying like spoons, Veronica was completely enveloped in his embrace, her body warm and tender. She slid her hand down his thigh, squeezing gently as she did so. "Thank you, Lincoln. Thanks for not chickening out on me."   
  
"Well, I may never stop arguing the point that you can do better than me, but if you're willing to take this, who am I to resist?"   
  
"All I can say to that is I'm glad you finally quit resisting. Except now I'm a sex addict."   
  
"No, you're a Lincoln addict. Sex addicts take it from anyone they can get their hands on." He paused. "Right?"   
  
Veronica laughed, turning her head to kiss him. "Right, I'm definitely a Lincoln addict. Give me some more," she commanded and his lips plied hers with soft kisses and teasing tongue flicks. When he stopped kissing her mouth he kissed the end of her nose gently. "Right now the only thing I can manage is to fall asleep," she said, somewhat apologetic.   
  
"Me, too," he groaned, briefly tightening his arm around her hips. "Give me a few hours and then I'll give you another hit, deal?"   
  
"Deal." She closed her eyes, drifting away slowly. "Linc?" she murmured.   
  
"What, baby?"   
  
"This is the best birthday ever."

 


End file.
